


A lo-fi rhythm, the sweat and the heat

by LetsJustAnon



Series: Lone Digger [2]
Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Blood, F/M, Knife Play, Knotting, Mildly Dubious Consent, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-11 21:32:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15324786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LetsJustAnon/pseuds/LetsJustAnon
Summary: A unneeded follow up to absolute territory featuring John Seed giving you the knot, dormant lycanthropy, Jacob being a prick, and a super pissed off deputy.





	A lo-fi rhythm, the sweat and the heat

**Author's Note:**

> So there is a torture scene in this that happens right after the smut- just a heads up. IT'S JOHN, OK.
> 
> There will be another entry after this.

Escaping from Jacob's grasp had been easy. He had been dumb enough to trust you out of your cage with limited supervision.

 

Of course you didn’t _change_ like he had said you would- it had to have been another one of his mind games.

 

And boy he had not handled you escaping again well. Last time you had been in his territory he had been particularly mercurial with his radio calls, shifting between vicious threats and gentle cajoling- you were his pup and you needed to come home now.

 

You didn’t question why he didn’t call you using your conditioning.

 

Which is how you came to be in Holland Valley and stirring up John Seeds’ ire- something normal (relatively so in these strange times), to keep you occupied. It wasn’t helping much at first, you kept noticing strange things about yourself.

 

For one, every time you got hurt and went to check your wounds they were… gone? And somehow your reflexes had drastically improved. Maybe Jacob had done something to you while he was conditioning you?

 

When John finally sends his people for you it’s like child’s play. You can smell them, hear them, run circles around them- and it’s pissing him off. For a while that’s enough to keep you busy- blowing up his silos and taking outposts with ease- even the bliss can’t stop you.

 

You’re getting too cocky, really, John should have named your sin pride at this rate. It leads you to John’s ranch in the middle of the night, at least that’s what you tell yourself… it can’t be this cloying scent, something earthy that reminds you of petrichor and clean cotton sheets. A warm bed on a cold rainy morning.

 

And that’s how you fuck up.

 

You cannot figure out how he knows someone is watching him. The thought sends goosebumps along the back of your neck. He doesn’t raise the alarm, but from where you spy him with your binoculars you can see the moment he freezes. His whole body is tense, and he seems to… inhale? John does not exactly run out of his home, no. He turns in your direction, even at the distance you both stand, and stares at you.

 

Of course he can’t actually see you, you’re certain, but it doesn’t stop the sing of your blood in your ears as he purposefully makes his way onto the drive.

 

“Come out come out, I can smell you lurking.”

 

You blink, dumbfounded at his words. What the fuck? Hastily you grab up your meager supplies, fumbling to get your binoculars back in their pouch.

 

The night air whistles past you as your legs eat the ground under your feet with ease, but somehow you can still hear him mutter, “Of course you run…”

 

Even though it’s dark you can see every root and tree like it was day, you should have no problem getting away. Yet somehow he keeps pace at a distance, not really gaining on you, no. No, John is toying with you in ways the peggies can’t.

 

He shouts, “I just want to talk! You’ve dared to enter my territory unannounced- just come out and we’ll negotiate the consequences.”

 

Something about his tone has you pushing yourself harder to try to lose him. It sounds like he doesn’t know it’s you running from him- so how did he know you were there to begin with?

 

There is not much time to contemplate the thought as you are barreled into from the side. You go over like a ton of bricks and slide down a grassy knoll. Immediately you jerk and roll, trying to get your assailant under you as you both slide into the dirt below.

 

The moment you both come to a stop and your gazes meet, John stills. His eyes widen, mouth softly parting. His hands are gripping your hips tightly, which sit astride his own. The air between you both is thick with tension and you both pant and struggle to breath it in. You should punch him and run, but something about the shock and awe on his face has you planted above him- waiting.

 

“It’s you,” his voice seems to tremble with disbelief and excitement. John’s expression shifts like a sun rise, warmth and something terrible, beautiful, and intimate fill his features and your heart stops.

 

A few sarcastic thoughts come to mind, _like who else would it fucking be_ \- but he pulls you down against him and buries his head against your neck to inhale deeply. His teeth scrape your skin, and despite all logic and reason you sigh softly at his touch. Without thought you find yourself returning the gesture, which he eagerly bares his own throat to receive your attention.

 

The two of you lay like that for a while, your rising hysterical thoughts smothered by the comfort of his skin.

 

It’s almost painful to part from the warmth of each other’s bodies, a thought you never would have imagined you’d come up with before now. John stands, wipes his hands down his shirt and pants nervously, then looks you dead in the eyes.

 

“Come back with me,” his tone is hopeful as he extends his hand to you.

 

Your feelings are split directly in half. Part of you wants to go with him, curl into him and be safe- the other part screams at you to bolt again.

 

Hesitantly he takes a step toward you, like you’re a frightened animal- and you might as well be. You know the sadism John is capable of, the pain he has inflicted on you, and has threatened to inflict on your friends. What has changed?

 

There is no excuse for you when you take his hand and follow him home.

 

You’re not sure what you expected, but it’s not for him to politely seat you on his couch and then watch him pace for five minutes. He’s grumbling, pushing a hand through his hair and mussing it into messy bangs. His eyes keep wandering to you before looking away.

 

“I’ll be right back,” he says like it’s a last resort, giving you one more long look and then walking off.

 

Even though he’s nowhere near you, you hear him radio Jacob- you don’t know how you can hear them both, but your brain is running a mile a minute trying to catch up to what they’re saying.

 

_“Found her?”_

 

_“Yes, is she- did you?”_

 

_“I thought I did, but she hasn’t changed, has she?”_

 

Your heart is thumping wildly in your ears at the exchange, and you know you’re missing part of the conversation as you try to make sense of what they’re saying.

 

_“Perhaps it’s dormant? She’s fast, and my people can’t keep up with her now.”_

 

You can hear Jacob’s hum of disapproval, can practically picture the disappointment that goes with it marring his face.

 

 _“I’ll be there soon,”_ is his gruff reply. John makes a small sound, hesitant.

 

 _“Are you taking her back?”_ his voice sounds small. There's a pause from them both.

 

The radio crackles back to life, _“If she's actually one of us- what's mine is yours, brother.”_

 

Jacob’s words sound terribly off. You do not quite understand the implication behind them, you don't think you want to. The only thing you can focus on is that Jacob is coming for you. Every thought in your mind turns nebulous with want and fear.

 

You start breathing hard.

 

Should you run? Stay? You can’t hold on to anything long enough to make a choice, and before too long John returns.

 

Every move he makes illustrates how tense he is. His face looks weary, and when he looks at you his expression goes into a pleasant blankness. Absently he runs his hand over his sternum, then comes to stand over you on the couch.

 

“You have nothing to fear. I believe you’re one of the family now, and while we still must cleanse you of your sins, you will know it is done out of love,” he leans forward to press his head to yours and your heart rate spikes. The longer you stay the more sure you are that this was a huge mistake.

 

“I need to do something unpleasant before we move forward, please hold still,” he leans back to watch your face.

 

“John, don’t,” you sound so desperate as your voice comes out cracked and dry from regular disuse.

 

His eyes close and he sighs, one hand stroking your head. It’s not comforting in the least.

 

You feel the knife intimately as it slides into your side like a hot brand. It takes your breath from your lungs. Shock pales your face as he continues to run one hand through your hair in an effort to sooth you. A soft whine escapes your throat and he shushes you gently.

 

The knife slides out of you just as fast as it went in and you choke.

 

John throws the blade on the table behind him and cups your face with both hands, rubbing blood on your cheek as he leans his forehead against your own once more. In the absence of adrenaline and fight or flight you begin to feel the skin reknit itself.

 

Slowly his hands slide down your body- chaste in their gentleness- to reach the hem of your shirt, “Raise your arms.”

 

You swallow and close your eyes as he removes the clothing- you don’t want to see the truth. Of course you are too lost in your thoughts and emotions to worry about being half naked in front of him at this point.

 

Having your eye closed makes everything feel far more intense. Reverently he strokes his fingers through the blood coating your injury and you inhale sharply- it doesn’t hurt so much as feel overwhelmingly sensitive. He smears your blood along your side and stomach, exploring your bare skin.

 

When his lips press against the healed wound you moan softly, hissing as his tongue slides hotly over your flesh a second later. Instantly something warm curls up in your stomach, something like want. You should feel disgusted, he just _stabbed_ you and is licking up your blood, yet…..

 

Your eyes slip open to find John watching you from where he kneels on the floor. The blue ringing his blown out pupils is so bright and intense that you find yourself flushing. And what a look he is giving you- only amplified by the blood coating his lips and chin. He looks positively ravenous.

 

It’s difficult to say who initiated the first kiss, all you know is now you’re underneath John on the couch cushions. His hips rest between the cradle of your thighs nestling his erection against your core in such delicious pressure. The two of you begin to grind into one another without rhythm, and any friction is good friction at this point.

 

His hips roll and rut into you as he covers your neck with nips and kisses, particularly paying focus to the bite scar Jacob had left you. Your fingers grip his hair as he makes his way down in a hot wet trail of blood and saliva.

 

The first touch of his lips to the fullness of you breasts has you writhing with need, desperate little sounds provoking him to suckle at your nipple and knead your other breast. His fingers tease the underside in gentle strokes before cupping it in his warm palm. Fingertips pull at your nipple to tug in time with the way he sucks your other hardened nub.

 

“Please,” you whine. You dig your nails into his scalp. He chuckles softly, moving to mouth the skin between your breasts and gives you a boyish grin.

 

“I can smell you, you know? I know what you want, but I want to hear you say it.”

 

Your teeth tug your bottom lip between them as John’s grin turns into a smirk. It’s petty, about as petty as his need makes him, but you don’t want to tell John anything.

 

“No,” you challenge and his face falls into irritation at your sudden disobedience. His hips stutter to a stop to trap you beneath him.

 

A snarl twists his face and you don’t fight when he takes your wrists into one hand to hold them above your head. John leans forward to press his mouth against your ear, “Your _pride_ won’t save you from giving me what I know we both want.”

 

Hot breath against your skin raises your nerves as he moves to the apple of your cheek to place a tender kiss, then places another on your chin, your neck, your chest. His free hand maps the topography of your body- tracing the dips and textured scars along the way. He is greedy to stroke and knead every inch. You cry out when he shifts and shoves a knee between your legs with controlled force.

 

He thrusts his thigh against you in slowly timed grinds as his breath ghosts over the word he had etched with such conviction into your chest. Sweat runs down your back as he tongues the length of each letter, causing you to whine low in your throat.

 

“Tell me,” he commands into your flesh, teeth digging in right over your heart.

 

Your eyes close and you inhale sharply at the mix of pain and pleasure while his lips mouth at the tender spot, sure to leave behind a hickey for later. Another press of sweet sweet friction to your center has you throwing your head back.

 

“Please John, please please please…”

 

His laughter is goading, “Please what, dearest?”

 

“Please fuck me, please- I want you to make me cum John.”

 

He groans, releases your hands, and drags his mouth down your body to the waist of your pants. There is a trembling eagerness in his movements as he practically rips them off you. His beard tickles your thighs right before he spreads them wide so he can stare at your damp panties.

 

“You want it badly, don’t you darling?” he says with such smugness that you glare at him.

 

Fingers curved like claws tear your underwear into flimsy pieces of fabric like they might as well have been made of tissue paper. You have barely a moment to be indignant because his mouth buries itself into your sex with relish. His nose digs into your mound, tonguing along the seam of your outer lips with long laps.

 

Your thighs and hands grip his head, but he fixes that with ease as he forces your legs back open and spreads your sex so he can taste you more thoroughly. Absently he gives your clit a few teasing flicks with his thumb before he sucks it between his lips. You gasp as he starts to lave and tug at it gently with his teeth.

 

Heat curls tight in the pit of your stomach and races to fill your chest. You want to rock against his face, but his hands grip your hips with bruising force to keep you in place. The room fills with your whines and the wet sound of John’s mouth on you.

 

The tension in your body builds higher and higher, pulling you tauter than a bow string.

 

Your voice trembles as he lifts his head to stare at you. What a sight he is- hair askew over his brow, face slick with blood and the shine of your arousal- and his expression looks absolutely debauched.

 

“You taste devine,” he croons and you flush pure red.

 

Fluidly he slides back between your legs and over your body to press his wet lips to yours. You taste yourself on him as he nips at your bottom lip to draw it open. His tongue flicks against your own, just enough to tease, then he pulls back.

 

His hands go to his belt and fly as he stares at you with such want. The sound of the zip going down sets a rush of anticipation down your spine. You lift your hips as he looks down between your bodies, his cock in hand as he lines himself up.

 

The thick head of his erection smacks lightly against your clit, making you jerk. He’s laughing again, softly, as he guides himself inside you while you give him a hard look. There is no rush for him to sink home, yet he can’t seem stop himself from filling you with as much of himself as he can in one swift thrust.

 

He moans loudly, head arched back to bare his neck as he seems to savor how warm and wet you are. There is a comely flush to his skin that looks absolutely enticing. You can feel his length twitching inside you, it’s a satisfying stretch, but it’s not enough to soothe the ache John has stirred in your body.

 

With all your pent up frustration propelling you, you lean up to drag him down so you are near chest to chest and sink your teeth into his neck.

 

He whines from deep in his chest, needy for it, pulling you closer as you begin to taste blood.

 

His hips move with increased force as he clutches you to him. He's moaning yes like a delicate mantra, though he does not seem aware the words are pouring from his lips uninhibited.

 

You pull back with a breathless gasp as he pounds into you relentlessly. Greedily he kisses you, tongue chasing his blood from the the plump swell of your bottom lip.

 

It's stiflingly hot beneath him, too much and not enough. His nails feel like claws as he holds you down beneath him, and then you feel it.

 

It's not as thick as Jacob’s, but it's there at the base of John’s cock.

 

A knot.

 

You moan even louder at the thought, your body tightening around his length and gushing with slick. One of his hands releases their grip on your hips to begin thumbing quick flicks at your clit.

 

You sob and arch up, so close you begin to jerk and tremble.  
  
“That's it,” John cajoles, “come for me, show me how good I make you feel.”   
  
“Fuck,” you whine, digging your nails into his shoulder. His eyes are all black pupil when you come apart beneath him. He growls, lips twisted as you clench and tighten around his length. A sharp snarl follows before he buries himself to the hilt and his teeth into the flesh above your heart. His knot pops inside you and expands, filling you full as he starts to cum.   
  
You're entirely overstimulated, the feel of his teeth, the thickness of his knot, how hot he is above you.

In the afterglow you can only lay there.  
  
His head finally lifts, lips once more shining with your blood. He looks so content as he mutters, “I’ve never done that before…”   
  
There was a gruff familiar laugh behind you both, causing you to jerk.   
  
"Couldn't wait, could you?" Jacob asks, tone lilting and slightly mocking.

 

John shrugs in response, and between the pressure of where he is tied to you and the pull of his body to make the motion you moan. It is a soft needy sound, and both brothers grow quiet as their gaze both focus on you.

 

Jacob hums to himself in thought for a moment as you flush, not sure where to look.

 

“You’ve never been with another wolf before. How about you touch her and make her cum on your knot,” Jacob asked casually- though both you and John know there is no room for arguments.

 

That wouldn't stop you from trying.

 

“Hey, wha-" you're cut off by Jacob seizing your arms above your head. He give you one of his patented smug smirks.

 

“You can take it, can't you pup?”

 

You inhale sharply at his words before John even begins to stroke your clit. He hiss between his teeth as you jerk trying to get away and your inner muscles milk his knot.

 

They hold you between them like a live wire. Every touch of his fingers against your tender abused sex has electric shocks shooting down your spine. It doesn't take long. You writhe and sob as John finally pulls an orgasm from your aching body. He groans low in his chest, eyes shutting tight in pleasure.  
  
Soon a cruel hungry smirk crosses John’s face and he begins to push you once more, making you cum several more times before he comes free.   
  
You groan weakly in exhaustion, body finally falling lax- only for the torture to start up again as Jacob takes John’s place between your thighs. His pants are down and his cock is already hard and ready against your thigh. There is no energy left in your body as he pulls you like a ragdoll into his lap. You barely manage to brace your arms on his shoulders.   
  
There is a moment where he readjusts your position so he's sitting on the couch with you still straddling his lap and limply clinging to him, giving himself room to spread his thighs and brace his feet.   
  
His smile is sharp as his fingers slip between your legs to roughly fuck you while John’s cum leaks heavily from your abused sex. You had enough time to sob as he pulls them out before lining himself up and sinking you down onto his length.

 

You pass out long before he cums.

 

\-----

 

You wake up tied to a chair in John's bunker, there is a spot light blinding you, prompting you to turn away from it. You think maybe it's a nightmare, because why would he bring you back here after the intimacy the two of you had just shared?

 

Then you remember that he had mentioned atonement, and your mouth becomes dry.

 

You close your eyes and hear someone sigh.

 

“I know this isn't ideal pup,” Jacob drawls,”but there are not many options left and I would prefer not to take this to Joseph directly.”

 

His footsteps are loud across the hard floor, they stop in front of you.

 

“Open your eyes.”

 

You do, and the spotlight has been readjusted so you can see John and Jacob are waiting for you. They both watch you with such foreboding looks that you know something bad is about to happen.

 

A hysterical laugh bubbles up from your throat as you look up at Jacob.

 

He hums softly and strokes your cheek in mock comfort, then steps away to let John take the reins.

 

And oh he takes his time with you, he has an assortment of tools at his disposal, and he knows all of them well.

 

He starts with a knife, carving into your skin while saying, “I just need you to change for me, fighting it will make you sick.”

 

It gets progressively worse as he begins to penetrate you with the blade, each time he pulls it free your body seems to heal slower.

 

You beg him to stop and he only sighs gently, like you're a misbehaving child. The knife slides under your ribs and you curse him.

 

This goes on for god knows how long. You sob as he finally slams the blade home deep into your gut, he makes a noise of frustration and leaves it there.

 

“If you’d stop being so stubborn this wouldn't have to happen,” he growls and paces away.

 

Your flesh keeps tearing and reknitting, trying to heal itself around the knife. The only thing you can manage to say is, “fuck you, John.”

 

“Jacob, I don't think this is enough,” John turns and says, suddenly weary. He's soaked in your blood, sweat coating his face, and you hate him more than you thought you could imagine.

 

It only gets worse.

 

They bring out the pliers next. Jacob has to physically hold you down at this point. He stands behind you, arms locked around you tight as John rips your nails out, one by one. You curse them, kick and writhe. Jacob's beard scratches against your cheek, but you can barely feel it over the intense agony that is your body.

 

“Denying what you are will only hurt you in the long run,” John says while he clutches your chin, “it slows you down, makes it hard to heal- I have suffered through denying the change before, for years and years, before Joseph found me. I promise this is for your own good.”

 

You snarl and jerk, driven feral by the abuse- rage burns you inside out even as Jacob whispers words of comfort into your hair, “it'll all be over soon, all you have to do is change. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

 

You black out finally when John rips out one of your molars.

 

It's nice, wherever you go. There is nothing there, no pain or worries, just endless void. Since you have the time, you think over the last five hours, go over how John had tempted you into this hell.

 

Distantly you begin to contemplate what had been worse- the way you healed each injury over and over again just to be hurt once more, or the fact that both Jacob and John had spoken to you so sweetly, comforting you and hushing you as you begged for an end.

 

You aren't sure how long you were out when you come back to earth. Every inch of your skin aches, no part of you coming out unscathed from John’s through attentions. Part of you notes that you’re still tied up in that god forsaken chair.

 

Sound filters back in like someone turned off the mute button on the tv. People are arguing.

 

“She's a failure. Can't change- weak, she's weak.”

 

“I disagree- and I know Joseph will side with me in this. She is still just as strong and resilient as you or I, Jacob.”

 

Your eyes refuse to open, they feel oddly swollen and you wonder why.

 

Jacob laughs and it sounds bitter, like broken glass being dragged across your skin.

 

You moan weakly and the two of them quiet. There is an unpleasant pregnant pause, which Jacob break along with your heart, “You deal with her. I need time to think.”

 

Numbness over takes you as he leaves. You don't speak as John frees you from your confines and leads you away. There is a cool blankness around you as he takes you to shower, and you don't fight him when he washes away the blood and other fluids from both your bodies.

 

It's only when after he tries to pull you in to bed to comfort you that your rage begins to well up and rear its head.

 

You push yourself from his arms, eyes wild as your heart begins to pound, “Don't fucking touch me.”

 

Despite everything he just did to you he somehow manages to look hurt. Disgust joins your anger, and it's all you can manage after all the bullshit that just happened.

 

John deflates and runs a hand through his hair, his other still reaching plaintively towards you to pull you back.

 

“You have to understand, we had to know. This hasn't happened before, and the survival rate of the infection is so low. We haven't had another wolf brought into our fold since Faith- we had to be sure you weren't fighting it.”

 

There was a raw look in his eyes and a nasty thought crossed your mind.

 

“Fuck that, there had to be another way. You just wanted a reason to satisfy your sadism- you get off on hurting others. All this atonement you preach? Bullshit”

 

His jaw clenched then, and you knew you struck a nerve.

  
  
“I know you must be angry-"   
  
You cut him off with brash laugh and he frowned,” Angry? Angry doesn't even begin to describe what I am feeling right now. And news flash, your sad empathy act, like you actually give a shit? Pathetic. Joseph was right in thinking Eden will be closed to you- you’re cruel and unworthy.”   
  
His lips wilted into a snarl, his own anger lining his eyes.   
  
“Get. Out.” The words were clipped as he began to shake in rage.   
  
“Gladly,” you bit out and slammed the door. You walked away to the sound of him ripping apart his bedroom.   
  
As you left the ranch you promised yourself that the next time you saw either Jacob or John you would kill them.


End file.
